Gunman
by The Musical CC
Summary: Only experts should deal with this kind of situation -a seriously disturbed teenage boy with a gun and an entire museum full of hostages- but Ancient Mexican Gods of the Dead are definitely NOT experts. Gravepainters. ONE-SHOT.


Well, of course she should have noticed. A shady, lonely character, keeping his distance from the rest of the group she was guiding, looking like he had a plate of liver for breakfast and hadn't showered in days...then again, most teenagers where like that, so really, was Mary Beth to blame if she hadn't seen it coming?

"Never covering up for the all-age group guide again..." she mumbled under her breath, hands in the air and scowling at the canon of the gun in front of her face.

"Shut it!" he snapped. The nearby security guards, caught completely by surprise, reached for their weapons, but were quickly spotted by the teenager and he shook the canon in front of her face furiously "Stop that or I'll let the red-head have it!"

Oh, how she wanted to roll her eyes. Someone had watched too many gun-nut movies; but the words, _cliché_ as they were, had the desired effect on the guards, as they eyed each other, unsure, before raising their hands too.

"I want all of you to put your guns in the ground and slide them away. No funny stuff or the pretty lady here pays the price"

"I wish you would stop saying things like that" she muttered. It made her feel like the dumbass in distress.

"I said SHUT IT!" he roared, thrusting the gun closer to her face and she had to obey. What choice was there, really? Inhabiting a human body meant abiding to its rules...to some degree at least. Letting herself get shot wouldn't mean her death, even if the bullet happened to go through her face, but it would sting like hell and make much of a mess and she would have a lot of explaining to do once all of the present (Half New York and their mother, just her luck) realized she could somehow survive a shot to the face with little more than a slight headache.

"OK, pay attention, everyone" the teenager announced, still pointing at her. His hand was steady "I want all of you to lie on the ground. Now! Do it, now!"

The frantic sounds in her surroundings told her he was being obeyed, despite how he kept yelling, his voice mingling with the muffled sobs that echoed in the tall ceilings of the building as entires families did as they were told, parents frantically trying to cover ther children. She pursed her lips and glared at the other end of the gun. Who'd given a guy that looked like he was days away from his first zit on the forehead a real gun, anyway? He noticed her looking at him, and shook the canon, intending to intimidate her.

"What are you looking at?!"

"Right, right, sorry" she mumbled, fighting the urge to groan, kneeling "Laying down now..."

"No, you're not!" he grabbed her by the arm and tugged her back up, in front of him, as the gun's aim swept around, people ducking at the view "I'm not stupid, I know those guards must have already sent a message to the station. Back-up should be coming sometime soon, so you're staying real close to me just in case they bring a sniper- are we clear?!"

His words returned multiplied by the echo a couple of times. Mary Beth wondered whether he was loud for dramatic effect or just loved hearing his own voice.

"Transparent" she deadpanned, weighting her options. She guessed she could go for it and knock him out or something, but when people played with guns, there was always the danger of colatheral damage and she wanted to avoid it if she could. Better to be patient and let him think he had everything under control- for now.

"What is all this shouting?" came a voice she knew all to well, along with the sound of steps.

"_Ay, no es cierto..._" she whispered tiredly.

Sure enough, a hunched figure appeared in the door leading to the hallway and the next room. No doubt barely returning from his usual rounds on the secret room, Güicho glanced at the scene before him -all the guests face down on the tiled floor, a boy hardly old enough to drive pointing a gun to no one in particular and Mary Beth glaring warningly at him, her hands up- and his jaw dropped slightly, a scowl crossing his face.

"...really?" he said as if someone had made a particularly bad pun.

"No funny stuff, old man" the teenager belowed, aiming for him "Put your gun on the ground and kick it here"

"Güicho" Mary Beth slowly tried, hoping he would catch her drift "Just do as he says"

"Do as he says?" he looked at her between appalled and amused and, to almost everyone's surprise, he calmly waddled to the water dispenser on the corner of the room and helped himself some in a paper cone "Ridiculous. Why you haven't sent him crying behind his mother's skirts yet, I'll never know, but I am not fond of this kind of game at all"

Some of the other museum staff raised their heads a little, exchanging confused looks. Scary as she could be when angered, they still couldn't fathom why Güicho would think small, delicate, sweet Mary Beth could give a guy with a gun a run for his money.

"He. Has. A. _Gun_" a nearby guard incredulously pleaded.

"I can see that. The weaponry regulations in this country just keep getting worse. How old are you, boy? Ten?" the teenager twitched in annoyance and Mary Beth barely held back a sigh. He knew as well as she did that guns did to both of them _what the wind did to Juarez_, and seemed much less concerned on how exactly they would explain that if push came to shove, or maybe he just thought humans so stupid that they would believe any explanation they gave them? Typical Xibalba.

"_Güicho..._"

"No, I am genuinely curious" he continued "Who sold it to you, that dangerous toy of yours...?"

"Toy?" a woman repeated, raising her head.

"Did he just say toy?" one of the security guards asked.

"So, it's a toy gun?" a small boy breathed out, hopefull.

"He does look too young to be carrying a real gun..."

Within seconds, the room was full of whispers and slowly raising heads. The teenager glanced at the room and wrapped a lanky arm around Mary Beth's neck from behind, pointing the gun around.

"IT'S NOT A TOY!" the room went silent again and he pointed at Güicho, a vein pulsating on the top of his forehead, embarrassed and furious "It's not a toy gun!"

"Not a toy gun, but a toy nonetheless" he replied, crushing the paper cone between his hands, not even looking at him.

"Ignore Güicho, please. He's a stupid idiot" Mary Beth concilatorily offered.

"What-hey, what was that for-?" the alluded complained. Two gunshots interrupted the argument. Some plaster and white dust fell over the teenager and Mary Beth's hair and she had a moment to hope he hadn't broken anything.

"And if you still don't believe me" the teenager continued, pointing the gun directly at Mary Beth's head again, pressing the cannon into her hair. She flinched at the cold metal "I can give you another demonstration"

Finally, the indignation overthrew the amusement in Güicho's expression. It was as if he'd realized, for the first time, how this insolent mortal was fully intending to use his litte carabina against his wife. Useless, of course, but -the nerve of that human! He could go and blow everyone else's head, for all he cared, but nobody did something so disrespectful to his Muertita and lived to tale the tale, nobody!

"How dare you?!" he snarled, pointing at the him with a long, crooked finger, eyes all but sending sparks "Get that filthy thing away from her right now or so help me-!"

"GÜICHO!" she exasperatedly choked out. Things the way they were, she'd have a bullet on the temple before an hour "Can you just- PLEASE- do as he says?"

He switched his glance between her and the teenager. Why she put up with him instead of sending him flying against a wall, he would never know.

"Fine"

He took out the gun and slid it far from him -he'd never really liked those things anyway. Cowardly and ungraceful killing machines.

"Now get down, old man!"

"Can we skip to the part where you tell us why you are doing this? I am getting bored" Güicho snickered, getting to his knees, hands up.

"You are really not helping..." groaned Mary Beth.

"Actually, yes" the teenager cockily obliged, giddy about his small victory and ready to boast his face off "Do you know how famous I'm going to be in just a few hours? People will talk about this, years from now, I'm gonna be in every news broadcast for months! Everyone in the country will know my name, girls will be all over me-"

"Ohhhh, girl problems" Güicho tiredly mocked "Why am I not surprised?"

"Still not helping"

"Quiet you!" the teenager snapped at her. Güicho's very mustache twitched in fury at the sight "Tell you what, old man, that's not what this is, this is about being remembered for ever! Though, you know..." he glanced at Mary Beth in a way she didn't like at all "I do have girl problems...and a thing for red-heads"

A disgusted shiver ran down her spine.

"Bad news, boy, that is not even her real hair color" Güicho snarled through gritted teeth.

"How. Is. That. HELPING?!" Mary Beth cried over the sound of approaching sirens. Some guests rasied their heads the slightest, hopeful, but the teenager was beaming.

"Oh, good, the police's here" he breathed out, excited "Showtime"

"What are you planning to do?" one of the security guards ventured.

"Glad you asked, this is the best part" he glanced back at Güicho "Wanna know why I picked a museum, of all places, granpa? Look around you! No one expected it, no one suspected a thing- hell, I took the gun out and your fellow guards still took their damn time before even trying to do a thing about it! Robbing a bank would make me a name in thousands, shooting in school would do the same, but here?" he motioned for his surroundings "Here, I'm about to become immortal"

"Did you lose your mind or where you born without it already?" Güicho yawned, unimpressed.

"Can you honestly tell me killing a bunch of people won't get me there far quicker and easier than any other thing I could come up with?"

"Kill a bunch of people?" Mary Beth repeated, disgusted. A boy that young already so willing to take lives?

"I told you, this isn't about money...it's about making history!"

"And, if I may, how exactly are you picking those whose lives you'll be taking?" Güicho questioned, still sounding too amused for comfort "You only have so many bullets before the gun runs out"

"People I don't like, of course" the teenager replied, aiming for him "And I've decided I don't like you, old man"

"You are not much to my liking either-" the gunshot and screams and horrified gasps of the surrounding multitude cut his words short and he glanced down at his shoulder, where the bullet had impacted. It stung pretty bad, but it was nothing compared to the complete outrage he was feeling. He looked back up, all but growling, shoulders hunching in a gesture he would normaly use to spread his wings menacingly "You shot me!"

And this time, it was Mary Beth's turn to glare at the teenager above her shoulder.

"How DARE you!?" she hissed at him, eyes glistening dangerously. Not being actually hurt by weapons didn't mean you were allowed to shoot a God, muh less when said God happened to be her husband. The teenager looked pretty shaken himself; he had expected the old man to bend, roll over and die, and yet he was as if nothing had happened, just angrier.

"Q-quiet, red!" he commanded, a lot less confident than before.

"I have obliterated men twice your size for less than that!" Güicho roared, getting to his feet "First you point a gun at her and then you shoot me-! You insolent little fool!"

"Stay where you are!" the teenager warned, pointing at him, and Mary Beth was pleased to see his hand quiver this time. He was very confused. Weren't old people supposed to be feeble and weak?

"Now you've done it!" Mary Beth hissed, struggling until she freed herself, and turned to see him "Talking big is one thing, but shooting that stupid thing of yours against him-!"

"Shut up already!" he commanded, shifting aims between her and Güicho. The latter's eyes narrowed, but the teenager was too busy thinking at lightning speed, Güicho's words about the bullets echoed in his mind. If the old man took more than one bullet to die...wait, what if even two weren't enough? Surely, three had to do the trick, but...

"Put that confounded thing down RIGHT NOW" Güicho seethed, plunging him out of his thoughts "And I might still let you live!"

"I would do what he says if I where y-" Mary Beth started.

"SHUT IT!" he cried, slapping the tail of the gun against her forehead in panic. Big mistake. Güicho's face fell in surprise and then scrunched up in utter fury. He charged forward, roaring.

Mary Beth's head swam for a second but it didn't hurt, despite the fact that the liquid warmth running down her face told her she was bleeding. All her attention was immediately claimed with Güicho's voice spitting insults in spanish and approaching at incredible speed, the teenager's frightened belows from him to stop and two or three more gunshots. Then, a loud SMACK and a CRACK and before she knew what had happened, there was no gun to her face anymore.

"Holy cr-" a nearby man breathed.

"Did he just-?!" one of the security guards asked.

"WOAH!" exlaimed a little kid, peeking from under his mother's arms.

She blinked, and finally noticed Güicho standing in front of her, shoulders heaving and another bullet wound marking his body, in the arm. She all but sighed in relief. It wasn't that bad, even a human could survive something like that, granted that they didn't loose too much blood. She turned to find the teenager sprawled on the floor, nose and mouth bleeding profusely, bony knuckles still imprinted on his skin, eyes half-lidded in daze. A hesitant applause broke somewhere in the back of the room as the visitors got to their shaking feet, and soon all of them had joined. The guards where immediately surrounding the fallen gunman, he wasn't going to get away.

* * *

With a slight grunt, Xibalba extracted the bullet from the crack in his boney arm.

"Like a bee sting. Annoying but basically harmless" he snickered, holding it between his fingers as any human would have held a speck of dust, until it dissintegrated.

"Not to humans" La Muerte said at his back, rolling on her bed to face him. She'd collapsed there as soon as they arrived, relishing the feel of the heavily ornamented knitted bedspread. She'd had some work convincing the museum staff that the ambulance would take too long and it would be better for '_Mary Beth_' to drive '_Güicho_' there in a hurry "They gave you two weeks off for recovery...and you will have to wear a sling for at least another two weeks after that"

"Yes, yes, I know..." he glanced at her somehow playfully and slithered until his face rested on his chin, inches away from hers on the pillow, half his body still outside the bed. If I did not know you better, _mi amor_, I would think you are cross with me"

"You could have blown our cover" she chided softly, lips pouting the slightest "If humans had realized we are inmune to their weapons, we would have been found out"

"Not that you are secretive about it, really. Every now and then you show your true form to children who come to the museum"

She shook it off with a hand gesture.

"Children are harmless"

"That boy today was hardly more than a child and he still gave us a lot of work, no?"

"Granted" she sighed, and shifted closer to him.

"Now, Muertita, what is it you really are upset about?" he pressed on, softly. She sighed and reached out a hand to let it tangle with his beard, his wings twitched the slightest at her touch, and then he relaxed, eyes drooping contently.

"That was a very rude young man" La Muerte muttered.

"Yes..." he all but purred, melting into her hand.

"He kept caling me names"

"Mh-hmm..."

"He wanted to be famous by killing innocent people"

"Hmm yes..."

"And he shot my Balbi"

"Hmm...oh?" he piped up the slightest, beaming triumphantly.

"I should have punched him before he shot my Balbi" her brow furrowed "No one shoots my Balbi"

His grin spread wider and he had to all but physically restrain himself to stop from trapping her between his arms and hold her to his chest like the precious, precious treasure she was. Despite all their time together, seeing her being protective of him was so incredibly rare...! But she wouldn't have that, he knew, so he contented with taking the hand that caressed his beard and giving it a squeeze.

"I daresay I hit him hard enough for us both"

She hummed a small chuckle and took her other hand to the side of his face.

"If Güicho had actually been human, he could have been dead" she whispered as he shifted closer to her.

"Good thing he is not, then" he all but breathed, the scent of sweetness and flowers and perfumed smoke she gave off reaching him, wings spreading to cover them "He is very alive"

* * *

**C.C. (a) The Author, here.**

**Yeah...haven't actually watched TBoL, so my facts might not be straight here. For example, I know La Muerte's human disguise IS called Mary Beth but I couldn't find anything on Xibalba's human form except some people in Tumblr calling him Xavier, so I went with it. Also, I kind of wonder whether they have like...human quarters orrrr do they live in the Museum or what? They must have given an address for their job application, right? Do they even work there or do they, like...sneak in there every day to watch over the book? IDK man, so many questions...**

**Either way, there's hardly anything on their lives as humans in disguise, so I thought I'd give it a shot and I might have taken it too literally.**

**Reviews are always welcome!**

**EDIT: Thanks to all the fans who clarified Xibalba's human name! Also, now thanks to it I have a new idea for a fic.**

***Me hace lo que el viento a Juarez (To do what the wind did to Juarez) is a Mexican expression, to say something can't hurt you...in the sassiest way possible.**


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